Chapter One of Silver Hearts
by scandalousxsanti
Summary: chapter one is finally done! i know there's a lot of grammatical errors in here, so bear with me. but enjoy it anyway!


Chapter One-New Faces

With a heavy sigh, Annabelle-better known as Anna-Elisabeth Livingston fluffed the last pillow on her neatly made bed and stared at it. She had been living in Myrtle Beach for two and a half weeks, but she longed to be back in Chicago, where she had been living for the past sixteen years, maybe even before she was born.

Anna knew no other home.

It was all foreign to her-the salty sea air of the Atlantic Ocean, the size of the town (which was relatively small), and the faces. Back in Chicago, she knew many people, and if the size of the traffic was small, she would have walked around town blindfolded. Many of the alternative rock bands that Anna was in to were from Chicago, such, and you better believe Anna and her friends bragged about that constantly. No one famous was from Myrtle Beach, apparently. Back in Chicago, concerts were popular and Anna hadn't missed any of the important ones. The ones she was into, anyway. The chances of anyone coming to Myrtle Beach were very slim indeed.

Anna looked out her window, thankful that the second largest bedroom had a view of the ocean. Coming from Chicago, Anna had never seen the ocean-the closest to any body of water she had come to was the Great Lakes.

Today, the water was a dark blue color, the white caps gently grazing the surface. The sun was high enough in the sky to cast light upon the water. It reminded Anna of a jewelry store. It was calling to her, begging almost. Anna would have loved to throw on a bikini and her aviators, grab her camera or maybe her sketch pad, and just sit on the beach, basking in the light from the sun. But her sparkling blue eyes were drawn towards the heavy brown boxes that were scattered across her wooden floor instead.

Anna lifted her hands and twisted her heavily layered reddish brown hair into a messy bun at the top of her head. If she wanted to go anywhere anytime soon, she had better start unpacking. She reached into the box marked "Anna's Electronics" and pulled out her sleek black iHome. Anna plugged it into the wall and set her fat, silver nano into the docking station and turned it on. Plain White T's came out through the speakers and Anna winced. A few moments later, she hit shuffle and Cute is What We Aim For blasted. Ah. The beat was fast and the lyrics were great-exactly what she needed to get started.

There were two-hundred and thirty nine songs on her iPod, and she was on number one-hundred and ninety nine (Cartel's "Honestly") by the time her room was settled into and the boxes were empty. Anna's arms ached. She flopped down face-first on her bed and didn't bother to look up as her door creaked open. Marshmallow, her black fluff-ball of a cat stuck his nose in and nudged the door open on his own.

Snapping her fingers at the cat, Anna rolled over onto her back as Marshmallow sauntered over. "C'mere, kitty," she cooed, staring at the cat-Marshmallow's green eyes widened as a purr erupted in his throat, and he hopped up onto Anna's thick white duvet. The cat was shedding as he rolled around, but Anna didn't care. "Good boy," she said with a smile as she scratched him under the chin, and the purr grew louder. He stretched his front legs out and kneaded his paws on her duvet before curling up into a ball.

Anna gave up on trying entertaining her cat and headed out of her room, just as the one Beastie Boys song she could never remember the name of screamed out of her iPod. She practically flew down the stairs and leaped into the kitchen when the paint fumes reached her nose. She followed the stench until she hit the living room, where it was overpowering.

Tanya Livingston was standing on a footstool in the living room, a can of avocado green paint at her feet. Anna raised a thin eyebrow at her mother.

"Uh, mom? _Avocado green_?"

Tanya turned slightly to look at her daughter.

"Of course, dear. That, and I was thinking of doing a glossy finish on the crown molding with some cream of beige colored curtains to accent it." Tanya was an interior designer, and always wanted Anna to be one too, rather than a photographer or an artist.

Anna sighed. "Sure, mom. Can I go to the beach?" Tanya frowned slightly, the worry lines in her forehead deepening. "I guess, but take your cell phone, and be back before it gets dark."

Anna rolled her eyes, fighting a grin. "Of course, mom." She bolted upstairs and thrust open the door, practically scaring her cat. Panic! At the Disco was playing on her iPod which, along with the iHome, had been relocated to the white nightstand by her bed. She rummaged through her neatly organized drawer and pulled out a mint-green (what was it with her family and green?) string bikini and slipped it on, double checking to make sure the ties on the bathing suit were secure. Anna tied her hair into a ponytail and slid on her favorite navy blue short-shorts, slipping her black aviators on after that. She grabbed her sketch pad, pencil, and iPod, rushing out the door. The clock in her room read one twenty-eight. It would probably be dark around nine or so.

For only living in their new house for a little over two weeks, the Livingston's house was organized completely. It only took Anna two seconds to discover that the beach bag was hanging in the laundry room, and the towels were sitting on top of the washing machine. She tossed a long, fluffy blue one into the black bag and stuffed her cell phone in the zipper pocket.

"Bye mom!" Anna called.

"Have fun! Wear sun screen!" Tanya shouted. Anna rolled her eyes but shoved her SPF 20 in the bag anyway.

The beach-Atlantic Ocean is more like it-was about a five minute walk from Anna's house. During that five minute walk, she had to go through one slightly small neighborhood and a couple blocks before she reached the wooden bridge that divided the street and the white sand.

The beach was slightly crowded today, but it stretched on for miles and miles so Anna wasn't worried about where she was going to put her towel. She slid off her flip flops and put them in her bag so they wouldn't get covered in sand.

She marked the bridge with the pair of soft pink Sandals that sat on the steps, and headed down the stretch of white sand.

After walking quite a distance, Anna pulled her towel out, humming along to Fall Out Boy ("Bang the Doldrums") when someone caught her eye.

He couldn't have been any older than she was; that would make him about sixteen or so. Just like her, he had on black aviators and a bathing suit, although his were board shorts and they weren't mint green. Just like his hair, they were chocolate brown. The word "Billabong" was just visible at the leg, and white designs popped against the brown fabric.

Anna found herself staring and looked away quickly. She could feel the heat creeping up her neck, but that might have just been the sun. Anna plopped down o her towel and pulled out her sketch pad and pencil, making sure her iPod was safe in her pocket; it was.

Anna was able to sneak careful peeks at the boy out of the corner of her eye, which was hidden by her tinted sunglasses. She began to sketch him, starting with his torso. He was long and lean-couldn't have been any taller than maybe six feet-but he didn't brag a six pack. The sun glinted off of his ivory skin, and Anna wondered why he wasn't already sunburned. Nevertheless, her pencil flew across the page, adding details here and there.

After a while, Anna started on his hair. It fell to his shoulders, just barely grazing the bone. Usually, she hated long hair on guys but there was something about his. She messed up a couple of times, and grumbled about it under her breath. She'd never had this much trouble with her art before. Anna scrawled her signature at the bottom, which included her full name-Annabelle Elisabeth Livingston-and racked her brains for an appropriate title. Nothing she thought of did it justice.

"When you've got a title for that, do I get to keep it?"

Anna jumped and looked around frantically, trying to spot the voice. She tilted her head up and her breath caught in her throat as she saw that it belonged to the beautiful boy she had just been drawing. Her face began to grow hot, and she was pretty sure that it wasn't the sun's fault now.

"I didn't mean to scare you," he said, his face growing apologetic behind the aviators.

"You didn't scare me," Anna replied cautiously. She realized that her ear-buds were still in, and she hastily removed them. "It's just that whenever I get really into art or photography, I forget that the world is around me—that people are getting on with their life, you know?" Anna clamped her mouth shut, embarrassed that she was babbling to a stranger, albeit a very gorgeous one.

But the boy nodded in an understanding manner, and walked over to sit across from Anna on her towel. "I'm Oliver," he said smiling. "Oliver McKnight, but you can just call me Oliver." Anna giggled. "I'm Annabelle. Annabelle Livingston. But you can just call me Anna. Everyone else does. Annabelle's such a little girl's name, I've always thought. But so is Anna, apparently." She blushed furiously, cursing herself for rambling along to this boy-Oliver-about her name.

"Well, Anna," Oliver said with a chuckle. "You have a very beautiful name, but if you want me to call you Anna, I won't hesitate to." He flashed her a crooked smile and leaned back, digging his hands into the gleaming, hot white sand. "Do you live here or are you visiting?"

"I just moved here a couple of weeks ago," Anna admitted slowly. _And I hated it until about fifteen minutes ago,_ she thought.

"Well, that's good. Because now I won't be flying across the country to find you," Oliver teased.

Anna's heart skipped a beat. She could have been imagining it, but Anna was quite positive that Oliver was flirting up a storm with her.

"Well, what about you?"  
"What about me?"

"Do you live here or are you visiting?"  
"I live here."

"Ahh, I see."

"Where are you from?"  
"Chicago, Illinois."  
Oliver nodded, the crooked smile forming on his lips. "I love Chicago. The Windy City, as many people call it." Anna frowned. "You miss Chicago," Oliver said quietly, running a hand through his hair.

Anna hesitated, and then nodded slowly. "I grew up there. But my mom--she's an interior designer--got transferred here, so…"

"…here you are," Oliver finished for her. "Can I see your drawing?" he asked abruptly.

Anna handed it over—it was of him, so she shouldn't object.

His liquid chocolate eyes narrowed under the aviators (Anna got a full view of them as the sunglasses slid down his nose, head bent) as he scanned the picture. Finally, he grinned and looked up.

"You're a very good artist," Oliver stated. "You go into detail a lot—that's good. You even got the hair on my legs." He smirked and Anna blushed. "Yeah, well…I try. But thanks anyway."

"You have a lovely signature, too," he said. It was the third compliment he'd given her–not that she was counting–and Anna could feel herself blushing. Maybe she could pass it off as sunburn.

Anna wanted desperately to change the topic-as much as she loved getting compliments, they were coming from a stranger (sort of) and it was kind of weird. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched a couple–a blonde girl and a boy with neat, espresso colored hair–approach them. She craned her neck, and Oliver twisted around to see them, He lifted a hand and waved.

"Hey," he said with a grin, slapping the other boy's outstretched palm. The boy grinned and looked down at Anna, his female companion following his gaze. From under her black, oversized sunglasses, her eyes seemed to narrow.

"Anna, this is Danielle-Danielle-and Jonathon. Danielle and Jonathon, this is Anna." Oliver introduced everyone and gestured to the right person as he said their name. Danielle and Jonathon nodded-Jonathon smiled lightly, but Danielle's face seemed blank. However, Anna felt a twinge of jealousy at how pretty Danielle was.

Her silky blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders–so perfectly straight in a way that Anna's would never achieve–and her tan skin seemed natural. She wore a simple black bikini and a white beach skirt and flip flops.

"Nice to meet you, Danielle," Anna said, and the girl seemed to relax.

"Anna just moved here," Oliver informed the two newcomers. "She's from Chicago." Jonathon motioned for Oliver to scoot over and sat down next to his friend, pulling Danielle in his lap. She giggled.

"Oh, man! I love Chicago," Jonathon exclaimed, his voice full of enthusiasm.  
"I went there last summer." Anna nodded, a smile forming on her lips. Jonathon's sunny nature cheered her up. She couldn't help but wonder why someone as happy-go-lucky as Jonathon would end up with a girl as sulky as Danielle. But to each his own, apparently.

"So, Oliver-flirting as usual, I see," Jonathon teased. Oliver whacked him playfully on the arm, jerking his head to get the hair out of his eyes. Danielle leaned her honey-colored head on Jonathon's shoulder, and he instinctively wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in closer. Anna raised an eyebrow but kept her mouth shut. As if he could read her thoughts, Oliver's face turned scarlet and he turned to Anna, mouthing, _Sorry about Jonathon._ Anna raised her eyebrow higher, causing it to vanish into her bangs, and shrugged nonchalantly.

"Well, maybe Danielle should know about how you've been flirting with Audrey behind the gym?" Oliver retorted, a hint of anger hidden deep in his voice.

This time, Jonathon's face turned bright red. "She's my partner for the chemistry lab," he said hastily as Danielle pulled her head away from his shoulder and pushed her sunglasses down her nose. Anna noticed that her eyes were striking green-like the girl had emeralds for irises. Danielle folded her arms across her bikini-clad chest and frowned. "Partner, uh-huh. I see." Anna was in awe of her voice; she assumed it would be strong and snappy, but instead it was soft and no higher than a tenor. It reminded Anna of pink lip gloss and bubblegum; she suddenly wished her own voice was that delicate. Danielle made to stand up but Jonathon's hand grabbed her own and pulled her back down. "Come on. Don't listen to Oliver. He's just jealous because he can't get anyone, so he sticks to lying about other people's love lives. And plus-I love you." Something in Jonathon's tone was soothing and sort of seductive, and Anna cocked her head, watching intently. He sounded so persuasive, almost as if he was trying to convince Danielle of something totally different other than the truth. Danielle's emerald colored eyes relaxed and Jonathon pressed his lips to her own. Anna felt the need to look away. Oliver smirked and turned with Anna.

"I'm used to it," he said, his tone rather blasé. "Once you've known someone for what feels like forever, you get used to it. They're like the couples that feel the need to be together every freaking chance they see get." Oliver leaned back and nodded slightly, facing towards the condos that lined the opposite side of the beach.

Anna turned around and immediately stood up. "Where are you going?" Oliver said, pulling off his sunglasses. Her eyes were immediately drawn to his. Even from under the cover of her tinted sunglasses, his eyes really were like liquid chocolate and melted caramel mixed together. She instantly regretted her sudden movement, but a quick glance at her cell phone told her it was almost five o'clock, and her dad would probably want help with the stir fry. She also didn't want to leave Oliver, but she was in no hurry to leave the suddenly lovey-dovey Jonathon and Danielle.

"I…well…get home soon," Anna stuttered lamely. Oliver chuckled. He stood up and nudged Jonathon and Danielle off the towel with his foot. They got off, blushing but continued to kiss the moment Anna had collected her towel, iPod, and sketch pad, stuffing them gently into her bag.

"Let's take a walk," Oliver suggested slowly. Anna nodded in agreement.

"That sounds nice."

The two started down the beach in the opposite direction of Anna's house. It was quiet for a moment, until Oliver broke the silence.

"So, since you live here now, are you home schooled or do you go to school?"

"I'll be starting at the high school tomorrow."

"Which one?"

"There's two? Well, in that case, Atlantic High."

Oliver nodded. "Maybe we'll have some classes together." He slipped his aviators back on and shoved his hands in the pockets of his bathing suit. Anna couldn't help but sneak a peek at his chest, which glinted in the now-setting sun.

"That would be cool," she agreed, hoisting her bag up higher on her shoulder. "Oh, hold on." Anna stopped and rifled through her bag, pulling out a sunny yellow wife beater. She slipped it on over her head and adjusted her ponytail. "Much better," she muttered. Oliver snickered.

"What?"

"Nothing," Oliver said hastily.

Anna frowned but kept on walking.

The two carried on in silence for a bit longer until again, Oliver broke it.

"Tell me something about yourself."

"Like what?"

"Anything."

"I like color," Anna noted. Oliver laughed. "I can tell." Anna folded her arms. "Okay then. What do you want to know?"

"What kind of music do you like?"

"Alternative rock. And classic rock, sometimes."

Oliver seemed to brighten up at this. "What's your favorite band?" He asked, genuinely interested. Anna thought about that for a moment. "The Academy Is…hands down. What's your favorite band?" For a moment, he was quiet. "I tend to lean more to towards classic rock. But I really like The Who and The Beatles. Everyone likes The Beatles."

The conversation carried on like this for quite a while, Oliver asking questions about Anna and vice versa. By the time they had turned around and reached the bridge, it had been established that Anna liked color and skinny jeans; The Academy Is…; her favorite food was stir-fry, and she liked horror movies and anything with Johnny Depp. Oliver, on the other hand, preferred black and white; The Beatles; pizza, and he enjoyed action movies but watched whatever his mom watched too.

"Well, this is my stop," Anna said slowly, not wanting to leave. Oliver held out his hand. "It was nice to meet you," he said softly. Anna gripped it, allowing her fingers to linger in his for a moment longer than necessary. "I'll see you around, Annabelle Elisabeth Livingston."

He turned and walked away.


End file.
